


a part of that

by cryptidgay



Series: things you said / blaseball prompt fics [2]
Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Baltimore Crabs (Blaseball Team), Ficlet, Found Family, Gen, season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:47:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27946274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptidgay/pseuds/cryptidgay
Summary: Oliver Mueller hits a ground out to Kennedy Loser, and the Crabs win their first championship.(Or: things you said when we were on top of the world.)
Relationships: Sutton Dreamy & Kennedy Loser
Series: things you said / blaseball prompt fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046602
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	a part of that

**Author's Note:**

> another [prompt fic](https://rogueumpire.tumblr.com/post/636801214589304832/send-me-a-ship-and-one-of-these-and-ill-write-a)! originally posted on [my tumblr, here.](https://rogueumpire.tumblr.com/post/636822650879098880/21-with-loser-dreamy-not-as-a-ship)

Oliver Mueller hits a ground out to Kennedy Loser, and the Crabs win their first championship.

They don’t wait for the clawmentator to announce  _ game over _ — everyone’s rushing together, running full-speed at where Kennedy stands in the infield; those who have lungs are screaming as loud as they can, their excitement drowning out even the droning feedback that echoes through the Crabitat. 

Dreamy walks a little slower. Takes it in. The crowds are cheering. The Garages make their own huddle on the other side of the field, a sadder affair. Dreamy hit a single in the second inning, and Parra brought it home, and she knows she isn’t anything spectacular when it comes to blaseball skills — she will never make it onto the idol board, never be on any leaderboards at all, and perhaps that’s a safer place to be — but she looks inside herself and finds that it feels good, knowing that  _ she helped this happen. _ She was a part of this, their victory.

It doesn’t feel all the way real. Maybe it’s the sound, overwhelming at best, static mixing with screams, overlapping shouts of  _ “Crabs good!” _ coming from everywhere at once. Dreamlike in its incomprehensibility. Sutton Dreamy was here in season one, standing in the same hollowed-out-shell of a stadium, spinning in the same slow circles in the middle of the field in a vain attempt to see the entire crowd at once, in panorama — and in season one, the crowds had been scarce, and the Crabs had been as far away from a championship as a team could be.

And now — an eighty-win season.  _ Unprecedented, _ the news kept saying; every time she walked past a radio, a Blest Buy with their television displays on, a newspaper stand, it seemed to be commenting on the Crabs’ unprecedented wins. A twenty-one win streak. Never before seen in blaseball. She isn’t the best player by far, but she was  _ part of that. _

“Dreamy!” 

She blinks herself out of her thoughts — how long has she been standing in the middle of the field, just looking at everything? Long enough for some of the crowd to have filtered out of the door, taking their celebration into the streets around the harbor. Loser is doing that weird half-jog towards her. She goes to smile and finds that she is already smiling; brings her hand up in a wave.

“You alright out here?” There’s that undercurrent of concern in his voice that seems to always be there —  _ team captain, _ defined by taking everyone else’s problems onto his own shoulders. It’s endearing, even if Dreamy is hesitant to share any of her issues with the team. The thought, at least, is nice.

“I’m fine,” she says. Truth. “Just — I don’t know. Taking it all in.” She laughs, high-pitched.

“It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?” Kennedy laughs, too; he bumps his shoulder into hers softly, and she takes the invitation, leans against his side.

That’s an understatement, she thinks. “Is this  _ real?” _ she asks, suddenly. It could be a joke, or an idle hyperbole of a question, but Kennedy knows it’s a question with weight, under its lighthearted facade. Sometimes she has to check. Just in case. Reality in blaseball is a fickle thing, and Dreamy is very, very good at questioning anything she can’t confirm with her own eyes, and anything she can, and anything in between.

Kennedy takes a step back. He has to look up to look her in the eyes, but he does, and she resists the instinct to look away; settles for looking at his forehead instead. “All real, Dreamy.” He’s grinning. The weight he gives the words can’t hide the current of sheer joy under them. “The Baltimore Crabs are the season six champions.”

“We really did it,” she says. It could be a question. It isn’t.

The deafening noise of the stadium seems to fall into the background, if only for long enough for Kennedy to say, “Yeah, Dreamy, we did.” And then the noise returns — she laughs, wraps her arms around him, and suddenly the whole team’s there, embracing and falling over each other and filled with the kind of pure happiness that simply doesn’t  _ exist _ in most of blaseball, not unless you make an active choice to ignore everything going on around you — but it’s here, and it’s warm, and it feels amazing.

And for a moment, the Crabs are at the top of the world.

**Author's Note:**

> can y'all believe this is the first fic i've written about my own team? (unless you count the tillman homesickness fic, but that was more about baltimore-the-place, not baltimore-the-crabs.) i'm gonna write more content about both dreamy and loser i swear, they're two of my fave characters in all of blaseball.
> 
> [send prompts to my tumblr for more short blaseball fics if you wanna,](https://rogueumpire.tumblr.com/post/636801214589304832/send-me-a-ship-and-one-of-these-and-ill-write-a) and leave a comment, it'll make my day! thanks for reading!


End file.
